004: Albert Heinrich (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
copesetic) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
makinglies2013-06-12 01:42 pm
copesetic) wrote in makinglies2013-06-12 01:42 pm
Entry tags:
The bitter end
They had failed.
Albert could still hear the sickening thud ringing in his ears as Skull had dropped Joe's battered form at Gilmore's feet, a message to them all. Each cyborg watched helplessly, the electromagnet keeping them from action as Skull taunted them all with promises of being broken, of torture and death, even of erasing their memories.
At least they wouldn't have to live with this, if that were the case.
The soldiers were careful to keep the magnet close as the cyborgs were lead to what little of the compound remained. A secondary system, with its own power and facilities and everything else. The original had at least been severely damaged through the actions of the cyborgs but it hadn't done any good. None of it had done any good.
They were transferred to cells, two to each, though Gilmore and 001 were taken elsewhere. Precautions were taken, each cyborg being bound, relieved of weapons, or otherwise rendered unable to use their skills. Albert in particular was divested of his hand - the left, not the right - so as to be unable to use his knife. For the rest they simply took his ammunition. For Jet they surgically severed the fuel line, rendering his rockets unusable. Chang's fuel was also cut, GB was set with a restraint that prevented his shifting, and Junior they simply sedated, his strength too much to keep caged.
When they'd advanced on Francoise with a specialized mask to dampen her abilities, something snapped. She'd been crying quietly to herself since Joe's body was dragged from their presence, but the tears had turned to cold fury and she'd lunged at the nearest guard, gouging his eyes out with her nails and leaving wicked gashes across him and two others as she struggled wildly. They'd shot and killed her, like a rabid animal.
And now here they were, each imprisoned with no means of escape, two to a cell with the promise of retribution for their insolence hanging over their heads. Albert, for his part, seems to have gone mute. He sits in the corner of the cell he shares with Jet holding the stump of his removed hand and staring at the wall. It's a familiar state, an utterly passive demeanor as he had displayed originally, decades ago when he'd first been taken.
They'd failed. He'd failed. Joe was dead. Francoise was dead. Ivan and Gilmore are likely to follow, as will the rest of them if they're not stripped of what little humanity they have left and made as automatons to serve Black Ghost. What's the point in fighting anymore?
Albert could still hear the sickening thud ringing in his ears as Skull had dropped Joe's battered form at Gilmore's feet, a message to them all. Each cyborg watched helplessly, the electromagnet keeping them from action as Skull taunted them all with promises of being broken, of torture and death, even of erasing their memories.
At least they wouldn't have to live with this, if that were the case.
The soldiers were careful to keep the magnet close as the cyborgs were lead to what little of the compound remained. A secondary system, with its own power and facilities and everything else. The original had at least been severely damaged through the actions of the cyborgs but it hadn't done any good. None of it had done any good.
They were transferred to cells, two to each, though Gilmore and 001 were taken elsewhere. Precautions were taken, each cyborg being bound, relieved of weapons, or otherwise rendered unable to use their skills. Albert in particular was divested of his hand - the left, not the right - so as to be unable to use his knife. For the rest they simply took his ammunition. For Jet they surgically severed the fuel line, rendering his rockets unusable. Chang's fuel was also cut, GB was set with a restraint that prevented his shifting, and Junior they simply sedated, his strength too much to keep caged.
When they'd advanced on Francoise with a specialized mask to dampen her abilities, something snapped. She'd been crying quietly to herself since Joe's body was dragged from their presence, but the tears had turned to cold fury and she'd lunged at the nearest guard, gouging his eyes out with her nails and leaving wicked gashes across him and two others as she struggled wildly. They'd shot and killed her, like a rabid animal.
And now here they were, each imprisoned with no means of escape, two to a cell with the promise of retribution for their insolence hanging over their heads. Albert, for his part, seems to have gone mute. He sits in the corner of the cell he shares with Jet holding the stump of his removed hand and staring at the wall. It's a familiar state, an utterly passive demeanor as he had displayed originally, decades ago when he'd first been taken.
They'd failed. He'd failed. Joe was dead. Francoise was dead. Ivan and Gilmore are likely to follow, as will the rest of them if they're not stripped of what little humanity they have left and made as automatons to serve Black Ghost. What's the point in fighting anymore?
no subject
Joe and Francoise were gone, who knew where Gilmore and Ivan had gone...and the rest of them were useless. They only had servitude and reprogramming to look forward to. The events played through his head over and over again, thinking of all the things they could have done differently, all the things that could have changed the outcome. Joe should've been able to do something about that guy-! But he couldn't. None of them had been as strong as they had thought; one simple magnet and it was all over.
He'd been calling the whole operation easy, a real piece of cake...but what had really been easy was defeating them. His mind kept yelling at him that he should have used his acceleration device too, should have escaped the magnet with Joe and then they definitely could have brought Skull down together...but it didn't matter. None of it mattered anymore, it was over.
He stood by the wall of the cage, brandy eyes traveling from the floor to Albert in the corner and then away to the wall across from him. This couldn't be it, there had to be something more, right? Did they really have no other choice than to stand here and die like dogs?
His fist connected with the wall and he clenched his teeth at the bite of pain it caused. It was hardly a speck in comparison to what he was feeling inside. "Dammit..."
no subject
A cruel smirk crosses his face, directed inward and doing nothing to hide the pain behind it. "I'm not much of a tactician or a leader, getting people killed left and right, but I still can't say I thought it would end like that."
Because it's already ended. There's nothing left. 004 looks down at the stump of his left wrist. "I've got to wonder why we bothered in the first place."
no subject
Still, hearing Albert so defeatist like that when he was usually the one with the optimism drew Jet's attention more than anything, especially that last question. It lit a fire in him he wasn't expecting and he glared at the wall.
"Why did we bother? Because we didn't want to run away and hide for the rest of our lives. Cause these sick bastards screwed us over and we wanted to pay them back. You might have been leading us, but that didn't mean you were dragging us to this fight kicking and screaming. We knew what was at stake." Joe and Francoise had payed the price...but they'd both gone out fighting, clawing for a victory they knew they couldn't have. Were they all just going to stand their and wait to be put down or worse?
The thought made him sick.
"At least they went out the right way, don't take that away from them by putting the whole thing down."
no subject
Albert comes from the civilian side of war. He'd spent his childhood hiding from bombs and his adulthood in fear of nuclear war. He'd been taught throughout that the goal is to survive, to live another day, and another, until the days run out. They hadn't had to run out here. They could have hidden somewhere, laid low, kept quiet.
A niggling, Jet-sounding part of his brain demands to know what the point of all that living is if its in fear, but the loss of two dear friends is still to new and raw and he shuts it out. "It's pointless."
no subject
The words echoed in his head until they built that fire in him into an inferno. In two long strides, he was in front of the shorter man and hauling him to his feet by his collar. Roughly, he slammed him back against the wall, not even bothering to hide the pain and anger he knew was in his eyes and expression. "Don't you dare say that."
He searched for something, anything, in those light eyes that said Albert didn't mean what he'd said. The realization that there wasn't anything was crushing. "I thought we got past this. The only way it's pointless is if you give up. Until then, there's always a reason. I don't know about you, but I'm not going to sit around and wait to be shot like a dog or, worse, used like before. Aren't you the one who's always saying we need to hold onto our humanity? And now you're just going to lay down and let them strip it from you!? Bullshit."
He felt his eyes sting a bit but he shoved it down and pushed the feeling into the fire of anger and rebellion that had taken hold. His grip loosened and he dropped his hands, letting his hair hide his nearly-treacherous eyes away from sight. When he spoke again, the determination was still there, but his tone had softened. "I don't care if it's pointless, I'm gonna claw and kick my way off this stage if I have to." The smallest and most humorless of smiles graced his lips and he turned away. "And I guess if you won't fight for yourself, I'll just have to do it for you."
no subject
"What's the point in fighting for its own sake?! Don't you dare fight for me, you ingrate. I'm done. If you're going to fight do it for yourself because I'm finished losing. I'm finished losing people I care about!" His remaining hand curls into a fist but there's no chance of him throwing it, not at Jet. His volume drops entire decibels, going from being easily heard by their likewise imprisoned companions to barely audible even with Jet right next to him. "I'm tired. I'm tired of fighting. I'm tired of living, Jet."
He sinks back down to sitting on the floor, head resting back against the wall and eyes vague and empty. "They already stripped my humanity a long time ago."
no subject
Probably because he trusted Albert to have his back...and now he wasn't there.
"I thought you were supposed to be the smart one. The only person taking away your humanity right this second is you." He turned away from the man slumped against the wall and turned his attention to the door of the cell. It was the only weak point he could think of. "No one said you had to look forward to living. All you gotta do is look forward to dying."
It was something he'd been told once, when things were just street gangs and stealing to live, simpler times. 'Live for the day you die.' He'd thought the drunk bastard who'd said it was crazy, but he got it now. It was the depressing way of saying seize the day.
Jet didn't look back at Albert, it was only him and that door. They'd clipped his wings, but he still had his accelerator--faulty as it was--and he used it now to slam himself into the door. A flash and he'd disappear, only to reappear as he bounced back from his impact with the door. He wasn't the science-y type, but he figured if he hit the damn thing hard enough and fast enough, something would give.
He'd just have to hope the something was the door and not himself.
no subject
He blamed Jet's tenacity, his lust for life that kicked him at every turn. It was an abusive relationship that Albert had watched with fascination since they'd met. How someone could want so badly as to live through anything. It was amazing. Even now he resented the younger cyborg for that ability to keep going beyond all reason.
Maybe that's why he kept saying what he did, but it was also why he wanted to protect that vigor and said what he did next.
"Stop, you're just going to hurt yourself. I have a plan."
no subject
The flyer leaned himself up against the wall beside the door and fixed Albert with a look that was both curious and cautious. "If you're plan is any variation of 'hurry up and wait,' then I'm going to go back to slamming the door.
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He looks at the still-open compartment of his machine gun arm, scrutinizing the inner makeup. There's no way he can rig that at the moment, not missing his other hand, but his legs he can probably get away with. He closes the panel again with his chin and proceeds to pull off his boot one handed. "Once you get everyone together, we'll make a break for it back through the duct system. We at least saw the map of the compound earlier so finding the hanger shouldn't be too hard. Once there, you should be able to retake the Dolphin and get out of here. The goons aren't hard, it's Skull we have to watch out for."
He grits his teeth as wires get unplugged and repositioned, the feeling not so much one of pain as just sheer shouldn't be. Even when he's had them for years, his body still protests the cybernetic parts.
no subject
He might not be as smart as some of his teammates, but he wasn't stupid either, he'd heard exactly what Albert had said.
"You mean we'll take the Dolphin out of here, right?" He stared at the German, hoping to catch his eye. "What are you doing?"
no subject
"I'm rigging up the other part of the plan, just in case Skull catches up before we manage to bust out." He closes one leg and starts to take off the other boot to rig the other. "Shouldn't you be picking locks?"
no subject
As soon as Albert went for his other leg, Jet had his hands in his collar again and was pulling his face closer to Jet's. "If you think for one second I'm going to just go along with some suicide run you intend to take by yourself then you've got another thing coming cause that's not my speed."
He hoped it was just the pure anger he was showing in his face and voice, cause the twisting of fear and pain and worry was still gripping his insides. He'd never felt this before they'd been captured. Before Francoise and Joe died. That was when it started and it only strengthened with each idiotic thing that came out of Albert's mouth.
"I'll pick the locks, we'll bust outta here, and we'll stick together. We'll get Ivan and the doc and then blow this joint and if trouble comes at us we can't handle then you and I will take care of it. Strength in numbers and it'd give the others more time."
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"That's enough!!" Great Britain's voice rings across all three cells, effectively silencing what Albert had been about to say and causing the German to look at the wall in stunned silence. The echo of GB's yell has barely faded as he lays into them. "You're both a pair of bloody idiots! Do you really think we can get everyone out of here safely with you two waving your damned cods around like that? You have a whole team for Pete's sake! Or what's left of it."
He pauses out of respect, then carries on. "There's no use in being martyrs if you don't have to so both of you quit concentrating on which of you gets the bigger tombstone and get to work instead. 008's been able to walk me through how to reattach Chang's fuel line so we should have firepower in a moment, but it'll be better to sneak out then break out since it'll buy us a few more seconds."
no subject
After a beat, he let go of the German's collar and picked the wire and pin back up, that neutral expression still masking his face. When he spoke, his tone was quieter, meant for just the two of them, and dead serious. "If you start to sabotage yourself again, so help me, Albert, I will knock you out and drag your ass out of here."
He didn't even wait for a reaction, much less a response before he was turning to give his attention to the lock on their door.
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"We'll have to figure out where they're holding Ivan and the professor. It may be separately, plus we have Skull to contend with, and the magnets that can disable us." His voice is clinical and even, the volcanic bubbling that had been directed at Jet hidden under the sheet of ice that is Albert's tone.
If anyone was going to provide an answer it's drowned out by a groan from Junior coming to. Albert blinks in surprise, muttering so only Jet can hear. "I thought he'd be out for hours with the amount they gave him." This changes things.
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After only a second or so of messing with the tools, the lock gave a hope-giving click as Jet got it to pop open. "Gotcha." The teen stood and listened at the door a moment. If there'd been any guards, they likely would have done or said something by now, but he was still paranoid enough to pause a moment, just in case. When there didn't seem to be any sign that stepping out of the cell would be a bad plan, Jet opened the door, flashed a smirk back at the German and slipped out of their room to put his skills to work on the cells of their teammates.
no subject
Midway through Jet picking the lock to Chang and GB's cell, Pyunma and Geronimo appear with a wave from the African. It seems Jet's not the only one with lock picking ability. Albert nods to 008 and cocks an eyebrow at Junior, to which the large Native American just gives a stoic nod and deliberately cracks his knuckles. It seems they're all raring to get out of here.